


GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION

by MaryLouLeach



Series: Acts of Friendship [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryLouLeach/pseuds/MaryLouLeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>IRENE IS BACK, JOHN HAS GONE MISSING, THE DOUBLE CROSSERS GET DOUBLE CROSSED, BUT SOMEONE HAS TARGETED THE WRONG DOCTOR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ET TU

**Author's Note:**

> the characters of Jesse and Irene are taken out of the universe created in The KILL, but you dont need to read my story THE KILL to be able follow this story. :)

CHAPTER 1. Et Tu

 

John held a postcard in his hand, Jesse usually sent a text but for some reason beyond him he’d found a postcard on his desk this morning when he’d clocked in at the clinic. The last one Jesse had sent was over a year ago, from Brazil, it hadn’t said much but from soldier to another it wouldn’t have to.

This one was different; it had a picture of the London Eye, and on the back a day and time. It was today’s date and the time would be a little after noon.

He thought it odd and would have wondered if the postcard was really from the ex soldier,  if it handnt been in her familiar scrawl and of course at the bottom she’d added the motto of the New Zealand army **_“Onward”._**

 

Still it wasnt her usual way of communitcation,  he wondered if something could be wrong, perhaps Helena or Irene as he knew **_The Woman_** , had gotten herself into some trouble. No, that wouldn’t be it, surely Jesse a trained sniper and Extraction specialist would have simply come to the flat and asked John and Sherlock for help. She wouldt take chances when it came to her best friend Helena/Irene.

 

That’s why at exactly five minutes before he was due to meet up with his sister in arms, he sent a text to Sherlock letting him know where he was and clue him in on who he was meeting. The Doctor was a firm believer in the saying;  better safe then sorry.

__

_**“Meeting up at the London Eye, having lunch with an old friend from New Zealand. Fill you in later.”-JW** _

 

Standing there in the building he scanned the area, several tourists were milling around shooting pictures and laughing, he caught site of someone in a familiar red coat and dark glasses standing near a maintenance exit, she smiled her normal ruby lipped smile and turned on her red heels to leave through the employee only restricted exit. John noted The Woman had dyed her hair blond this time, that and Jesse wasn’t anywhere near, perhaps the ex army sniper was waiting on the other side of the door. But why the secrecy? John started after the now blond Helena, first glancing around carefully, just to be sure he wasn’t being followed.

“Doctor Watson.” The Woman greeted him quickly, standing under the shade of the building.

 

“Irene? What the hell? Where’s Jesse?” The Woman gave a sad smile, almost apologetic smile.

“Doctor Watson, I am so sorry for this. So sorry. Don’t fight them it’ll be fine.” She removed her glasses stepping back John was about to say something, ignoring the buzz of his mobile in his hands, he never managed to get whatever it was he had started to say out, before the sharp pinch at the nape of his neck registered. Rough hands came up to catch him as he swayed the look of betrayal fading from his face as he lost consciousness.

“Be careful with him!” Helena snapped as two fairly large men lifted the smaller man into the back of what looked like a maintenance van.

“If he is who you say he is then our boss will make the trade.”

“That wasn’t the deal! Where is she!?” Helena growled drawing a gun, the man closest to her dressed in a gray coveralls laughed.

“Shoot us and you’ll never get her back. We’ll be in contact. Be ready with the payment.”

“What does D’Arma want with him anyway?” Irene demanded following the larger of the two men.

“It’s not the Doctor he’s interested in. You of all people do understand the importance of family. The Doctor is just a little bit of a insurance policy.”

“What do you want Sherlock to do? I thought this was about a trial the Doctor was a witness in? D’Arma never said anything about-”

“Who the hell is Sherlock? No, this _**is**_ about a trial. Seniore D’Arma was hoping his brother’s lawyer was good enough to get him off, but it seems there is too strong of evidence against him. And unfortunately this man’s sister will play the perfect witness. It will all work out. Just have your payment ready. If you try any tricks or come up short in anyway D’Arma will return your own dear sister to you, but in pieces.”

 

 


	2. Directions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, what has Harry done now.

**CHAPTER 2. DIRECTIONS**

 

John's eye lids felt heavy and after several attempt he managed to open them, blinking against the dark,  his mouth dry, and head pounding. The good Doctor tried to lift a hand to his aching head but something prevented this action, in fact his shoulders felt tight in whatever uncomfortable position he was in.

He became vaguely aware of someone talking. Was it his flatmate, couldnt Sherlock see he was tired? Wait, no, this wasnt his bed, or the flat, his dulled senses alerted him slowly to the cold hard floor his body was laying against. John ignored this small detail, wanting very badly to tell whoever was talking to shut the hell up, they weren’t helping with his headache.

 

“Ah, yes. Here he is my dear. I’ve sent you a picture but I’m sure you’ll feel better hearing his voice.”

 

“Say hello to your sister Doctor Watson.” The room came into better focus, it wasn’t dark at all just a bit dim, and from what he could tell he was on the floor of what looked to be a cement cell, no chairs, or bed nothing but a metal door and a flickering florescent light above. A pair of expensive leather shoes came into view and the man's words registered slightly with his foggy brain.

 

“Who the hell are you?” John thought his voice sounded rough as if he’d been yelling. He’d give his left kidney for just a bit of water, enough to wet his tongue. Feeling as if he had just come in from the desert, recalling how the sands of Afghanistan had a way of overrunning ones mouth and nose, hell his eyes felt dry enough. If only he could rub at them, why did his wrists feel so pinched amost numbed?

 

“Johnny?” Harry’s voice cracked her sob pulled at his heart and he pushed his own confused discomfort away.

“Harry? Are you alright? Where are you? What's going on?" he barely managed a loud whisper.

“Johnny. I’m fine. Are they hurting you? I’m so sorry Johnny-I”

 

Mr. Expensive shoes pulled the mobile from John, “That’s enough Miss. Watson.  You know the deal, if you do as you're told your dear little brother will live to see the light of day and if you deviate from the plan in any way, by going to the authorities or  getting the police involved in any way then your brother will be returned to you over the course of a few months in pieces. We’ll let you deal with putting him together again for the funeral. But I can guarantee it wont be an open casket.” John tried to concentrate on the mans words, he had a heavy accent, Spanish or Italian maybe. Still Harry’s sobs and pleas were loud enough to make him try to sit up and attempt to free his wrists.

“Don’t you threaten her!” The exsoldier growled.

 

“Shut up! Don’t be rude Doctor, I’m in the middle of a conversation.” Mr. Expensive shoes and definitely expensive black suit punctuated his words with several hard kicks to John’s back and stomach. The ex soldier tried curl into a ball and lessen the damage, to no avail.

 

“Don’t! Please! Don’t hurt him! I’ll do what you want. I will.” Harry pleaded desperately.

“Good Miss. Watson very good. We’ll be in contact.” John tried to take steady breaths groaning against the nausea and his now aching shoulder.

“Why don’t you just rest a bit Doctor, you’ll be out soon enough, depending on how well your sister can follow orders.”

“Piss off!” John managed in the same loud annoyingly painful whisper.


	3. CONNECTION

**CHAPTER 3. CONNECTION**

Harriett stared at the picture message, it was John. Her baby brother, John, and he was hurt.  His face wasn't bruised yet, but it would be before the nights end, and the way they had his hands bound behind him couldnt be good for his shoulder.

She heard them kicking him or god knows what before they'd ended that call.

Helplessness threatened to overwhelm her, then just as quickly the urge to stab someone to make them pay for what they were doing to her baby brother, and back to feeling of helplessness, a string of emotions like despair, anger and guilt all bombarding her senses. She needed something to dull the ache, and quiet the fear.

True she and her brother weren't really on speaking terms, fine any kind of terms at all but he was still her little brother. He would always be the toddler in his blue zip up pajamas, the cotton cloth of the knees and elbows almost worn thin from evenings spent climbing and crawling around on a bedroom floor playing with plastic soldiers and little cars, when he should be in bed sleeping.

These emotions pushed her thoughts towards the bottle of vodka she'd stashed behind the frozen peas and ice cream. Fighting the temptation to ruin her sobriety but damn this was bad. Now Harry was in her kitchen, standing there in front of the mirror like metallic surface of her refrigerator.

"I'm sorry Johnny." She murmured her hand still clutching her mobile now gripping the fridge door handle, her stormy blue eyes staring sadly at the picture held up by a magnet strategically placed directly on the outside of the door, next to her appointment reminders and an old birthday card from Clara.

She ran carefully manicured fingers over the young boys face in that picture, recalling how fair his hair had been, back when he still had a curl to the ends, wispy like the softest down.

Before father had mum took Johnny in for his first haircut, something cropped short, neat, and to military regulation, like father's.

She moved her hand away from the photo ignoring the slight tremble run through her. Memories of  how on one of those many nights her parents argued, her little brother made his way across the hall to her room.

The toddler John Watson, he never cried or fidgeted even then, instead he would lay awake clinging to her arms and her old teddy, Winston. A teddy she begrudgingly passed to him as soon as he could walk into her room and take the well loved stuffed animal from her bed.

How could she tell him no, besides he took better care of Winston than she ever did. That was John in a nutshell, always so responsible, and ready to comfort someone else, ready to take care of things he'd tried to save her from herself far too often.

Johnny was so forgiving and their last argument had been a year ago when that idiot flatmate got poor Johnny nearly blown up in an explosion, and then kidnapped and finally shot! Really, what was it with her brother and getting involved with people who bring him trouble? He was a doctor he should be happy sitting behind a desk and minding his patients curing ear infections and giving old people and babies vaccines for whatever. Not being chased, shot at or kidnapped.

She lamented over the fact those thugs on the phone had said no cops, but she couldn't just let this murderer walk. Why didn't she have Sherlock's number in her phone? Because she hated the obnoxious bastard, that's why. And hadnt he almost killed John numerous times with the little cases he would drag her brother out on, **_her_** brother, who had PTSD, and a bad shoulder. It was all so frustrating! Because if she had his number maybe he could help in some way, but then again maybe not, with his track record he could get John killed. Still! What were her options?

"Dammit!" she leaned now against the shiny gray surface of her refrigerator, lightly beating her head against the freezer door, clutching to the handle as if for dear life. "Options Harry, options." She had to figure something out, sure she could comply, so what if a murderer walked but what about her brother what insurance did she have they wouldn't kill him?

The cartel would be watching her, true but they wouldn't think about her talking or calling John's flat mate. If she had bothered to get the TWIT'S NUMBER! Wait, didn't he have a website, maybe, she could email him? No what if it was intercepted? A text could be intercepted as well, and it would look suspicious if she went anywhere other than to work.

Harry stopped beating her head against the refrigerator releasing the freezer's latch, the same hand still clutching to her mobile, glancing at the picture on the screen, then at the picture of her younger brother feeding ducks, intensified the temptation for the vodka bottle three times stronger.

Just a sip, just this once to focus, she needed to focus. Her eyes blurring with frustrated tears, she looked at that picture held up by a star magnet.

That small blond haired boy looking up towards a blond teenage version of Harry, John had a smile on his fair skinned face, that was so long ago back when she had pink streaks in her hair, a lip piercing, all to fathers displeasure of course. That was John too, with his young face open and eyes bright, before he reached an age to trade blows with their father, before he'd gone off to war before time and worry and crazy flatmate had weathered his face and dulled those spring sky blue eyes.

The teenaged Harry Watson had discarded her school blazer on the park bench beside her, and the younger boy stood opposite, holding slices of bread in his hand as was she. Except he looked so happy to be at the park feeding the ducks unaware of his sisters displeasure with the whole affair,  she hated babysitting and having a tag along. Harry recalled that one of her girlfriends at the time had snapped the picture, thinking it was cute.

Of course cause everyone loved Johnny, with his blond hair and bright blue eyes, who couldn't? She had an irritated frown on her face in that photo, very similar to the one she held now.

A spark of jealousy followed by guilt surfaced, John was the perfect son and she was the black sheep. Always getting into trouble and failing classes. Not the perfect blue eyed boy, mummy's little man, and later Dads proud little soldier boy. Ugh, and then the ass had to go and become a doctor on top of it all! And John Watson didnt know how to just put his head down and sit in the back mind his own business did he, he had to go off like an idiot a reckless fool and get himself shot!

That was her brother, the guilt protested, that was John, always ready to stand up for what he thought was right, stubborn, loveable, idiot little brother.

How selfish of him to forget he was all she had left of family, Clara was long gone, heartless bitch, and mom and dad died years before. And he went and got himself nearly killed playing hero! He was a doctor what the hell was he doing with a gun anyway? And then he comes home refuses to move into her flat where she could take care of him, instead he puts himself in danger with the posh emo in a bellstaff coat.

John made her worry, she worried constantly. Something she'd never had to do when it concerned him, but lately since he came home that's all she could do. How could he be so reckless with his life like it meant nothing, like it was of no matter if one day he  would cease to exist. And now he would be hurt possibly killed all because she was trying to do the right thing! SHe should have just kept her mouth shut, and never agreed to testify.

What the hell was she playing at pretending to care, she had an option to say she hadnt seen a thing, but instead she told the investigators exactly what she saw and heard. Damn, now her brother had been brought into this, she'd never forgive herself if he died. 

She had to figure this out, she needed that drink. Glancing once more at the picture of her and John, she noticed the teenaged Harry Watson had a hand resting on her blazer, if someone had a good eye they would see the pack of cigarettes peeking out from under her dark jacket. Johnny was young but he knew she wasnt supposed to smoke he used to take her cigarettes and hide them all the time, then later her bottles of vodka or wine.

On that particular day, Mum made Harry pick Johnny up from the sitter on her way home form school, and Johnny had begged to feed the ducks  Harry only gave in, because of Suzy, Suzzy had bought some bread on their way home, Suzy had encouraged Harry to smile for the camera, clearly Harry would rather do far better things _with_ Suzy, then hang out with her twerp brother and feed the obese ducks teaming around a polluted pond.

Looking back at it now Harry remembered when John wanted to be around her, and now he couldn't stand being in the same room.

"Sorry John." She murmured opening the freezer, shoving the peas and ice cream aside finding the unopened bottle of vodka.


	4. SOLIDARITY

**CHAPTER 4. SOLIDARITY  
**

“Listen Bill, Agent A is going to come through those doors and you’re gonna have to be the one to tell her you messed up!” three junior agents shot looks of pity towards the rookie in the black suit as the slightly senior agent, Martin Cores informed the man that there was no surviving this one.

“But Martin, you’re the one that initially missed it!” Bill could feel his heart threaten to pound out of his chest. He’d heard the stories and rumors surrounding Mr. Holmes and all evidence pointed to the fact that he was a dead man walking if this was pinned on him. "You are the one who said and I quote ' _dont bother with looking into that. Harriette Watson as citations running through the Scotland Yard computers after most weekends. Drunk and disorderly my guess. Not our problem.'_ end quote!" Bill hissed.

“Bill, there comes a time when you have to face the music!” Agent Martin Cores growled under his breath.

“Martin he’ll disappear me and if I’m going down you’re coming with me! We’ll get Corgi duty for this! You know that right? And that's if we're lucky!”

“Man up Bill! And there is no we! Here she comes. Good luck!” Agent Martin started off in another direction of the office needing to get out of the line of fire.

 Agent William Fisher straightened up nervously, holding a file in his hands, he approached the boss’s PA, she had her head down clicking away at her damn blackberry.

“Agent Fisher.” She greeted without looking up. “You have something for me?” She held her hand out, ignoring the man’s suddenly nervous stammer.

“Agent A-“ he frowned handing the folder over she took it and started flipping through the file. 

“Why wasn’t this brought to our attention earlier? You do know the protocol on Doctor Watson.”

“Yes ma’am but-“

“But nothing! This is critical information William.” Her head snapping up from the file dark eyes narrowing on the shorter man, the temperature may have dropped in that room but he was feeling the heat all over, he started to perspire. “I want a status report on the doctor stat! Mr. Holmes may want to speak to you later.”

She spun around on her sharp black expensive heels, hurrying back through the  heavy oak doors she’d just come out of. Agent Fisher exhaled wiping the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. He was definitely going to disappear for this, but he at least bought himself a little bit of time.

Besides couldn’t be top bad,  they’d go put the doctor and his sister in protective custody, all would be well again. Yes, things would be fine. Just fine, nothing to worry about. This was his general feeling, until the doors hadn't even a chance to close behind Agent A before a very stern Mr. Holmes exploded through them.

 

Mycroft called for his car within seconds of reading the file. “Where is my brother?”

“Sir, he as currently at 221B.” Agent A continued to click on her blackberry.

“I want that footage sent to my phone.” Everyone in the office was standing up as if the king himself were walking through.  One look at Mr. Holmes and Bill knew he was a dead man. Something had definitely gone wrong, very, very wrong.

 

**~0~**

Sherlock hadn't the time to read the text message when he received it at noon, the chemicals he was mixing were too volatile to have anything but his complete attention. His phone lay forgotten until it started to vibrate nearly off the table an hour later.  He only glared at the offensive equipment and if his hands weren’t already occupied he was sure he’d throw his mobile across the room.

 

“Sherlock dear, is that your phone?” Mrs. Hudson entered carrying some groceries she’d decided to pick up for the boys while she was out shopping. 

“Busy.” Was all Sherlock snapped back, the older woman sighed, knowing that the dark haired young man only received texts from his brother or John, two people not to be ignored.

 “Shall I get that then?”

“If you must, and text Mycroft back that he’s a fat-“

“Sherlock you have three messages and two missed calls.” The landlady cut him off, having no intention to relay any such message, and therefore didn't wish to hear it.

“Don’t care.” The younger man squinted down following the drops of liquid into a beeker, narrowing his gray eyes mentally computing the possible reactions of this substance when mixed with another.

 “One is from the Doctor it seems he’s meeting with an old friend from-new Zealand. Oh. I didn’t know he had friends in New Zealand, I’ve always wanted to go. To much sun though, I think I’d turn the color of a tomato if I ever did decide on a vacation there. Mrs. Turner has a nephew-“ Sherlock's dark head came up now from the beeker he was concentrating on so intently for the past couple hours.

“What does it say?” he was now eying his mobile in the landladies weathered hands.

“ ' _Meeting up at the London Eye, having lunch with an old friend from New Zealand. Fill you in later.'_

There are several others from your brother-“Sherlock didn’t have to ask her to read them Mycroft was already standing in the open door way looking absolutely annoyed and something else.

“No need  to read them Mrs. Hudson. Seeing how my brother cant be bothered to answer his phone or texts I’ve decided to come in person.” Mycroft had a look of irritation and something else, what was he concerned about

 “Better put the kettle on.” Mrs. Hudson placed Sherlock’s mobile on the table and headed back to the kitchen.

 “What is it now Mycroft?” Sherlock was carefully placing the beaker and dropper down on opposite ends of the table.

 Mycroft held his breath and counted to five before exhaling, he needed to get to the bottom of this and quickly. He had agents watching Harriette Watson’s flat, but Mycroft needed more data before proceeding. His agents reported that Harriet Watson was safely inside her flat alone, they also identified two other men belonging to the Cartel watching the woman's building. Mycroft gave them orders to stand down unless Ms. Watson was threatened in any way.

 “What do you know of Alejandro D’Arma” As always his brother now removing his safety goggles was looking unconcerned and bored. “I’ll take your silence as you don’t know him. He after all is just the brother of one of the largest drug cartels in the Mediterranean. "

“So.”

“So. Well it seems a Giuseppe D’arma was purchasing property here in our humble city for less than honorable uses. The real estate  agent assigned  happened to be dropping off the closing paperwork when she walked into a room where two men where arguing one man drew a gun out and shot the other. “

“Open shut. Boring.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Really Mycroft I’m too old for bedtime stories and this one is going to put me to sleep. Mrs. Hudson cancel the tea my brother wont be staying.”

“The real estate agent wasn’t seen, she backed out of the room and called the police, Giuseppe D’Arma was captured before he could leave to the airport. Police needed the eye witness account to convict the man who claims it was self defense.”

“I don’t know why you must-“

“The real estate agent-“ Mycroft cut his brother off raising his voice “one Harriette Watson.”

“Harry? John’s sister?”

“Yes Sherlock the same. Tell me when was the last time you heard from John.” Sherlock grabbed his phone he sent a text back to the Doctor waiting he received no reply. “Where is he?” Mycroft asked.

“He was supposed to be at work but he was meeting a friend.” Sherlock didn’t elaborate, no use lying about that, Mycroft obviously heard Mrs. Hudson earlier reading John's text out loud.

Sherlock knew exactly who John was going to meet. But why the London Eye, why now in the middle of his work day? Again he sent another text nothing.

“London Eye?” Mycroft eyebrow's raised, once Mrs. Hudson had read that text he’d sent a message to his PA in the car, she was sending him a CCTV feed, Mycroft wasn’t looking at his brother now, instead his eyes focused on the footage he was being fed.

“Who exactly is this old friend?” Mycroft held up his phone. Sherlock could make out a blurry image of John, he’d know that awful brown jumper anywhere. John in the poor footage, was looking around curiously, then as if he saw someone he knew he started in the direction of an employee exit, moving unnoticed through the crowd and the doors, the cctv couldn’t see who the Doctor was following but Sherlock knew the sniper was too good to allow the camera’s to capture her image unless she wanted to. What Sherlock was watching now was worse.

John was following someone through an employee only exit, Sherlock felt warning bells going off in his head, something was wrong, John’s posture changed, he was holding his phone.

 “When was this!” Sherlock hissed as two large men were loading an unconscious doctor into a white utilities van.

“An hour.” Mycroft replied. CCTV lost them in traffic due to a car accident several emergency vehicles blocked the view.”

“His phone!?”

“Found at the scene.” Mycroft replied in his usual business like tone. Sherlock continued to scrutinize the footage, he could make out a shadow, the woman John spoke with was smart and stayed out of the CCTV’s view, except moving only once into the light briefly drawing a gun clearly arguing. Something had gone wrong, but what, why would she set John up-Sherlock froze that wasn’t the sniper.

 White hot anger shot through him "Did you pull John’s phone records?”

“Sherlock who was the friend the doctor was meeting with?”

“I don’t know. Some army buddy.”

“From new Zealand?”

“Yes, I don’t know Mycroft. I don’t keep tabs on all the Doctor’s friends. Isnt that your job.” Sherlock snapped pushing his brothers phone at him, he grabbed his coat and scarf from a heap on the couch.“Sherlock where are you going”  
”For a walk!” he snapped. “I want the phone records.”

“There isnt anything to see, I’ve had them pulled. The last call received was from his sister right before the kidnapping.”

 

Sherlock didn’t wait to hear more, he had a Woman, to find. Not just any Woman but the Woman. First something pulled him in the direction of Harry’s flat. He didn’t have time for this, but she know something, this was obviously a hostage sitution.

Hailing a cab he glared at his mobile, damn why didn’t he ask Mycroft for Harry’s number? Why didn’t he have Harry’s number in his phone? Because she was a compulsive harpy that had no appreciation for her younger brother.

John would go out of his way to help her, and she would always take and never give back. How many drunken phone calls did John answer in the middle of the night only to rush out and pull his sister from whatever situation she’d managed to get herself involved in. Granted it had been at least a year and half since she’d last made a drunken phone call.

This stint of sobriety had been the longest, John was quite proud of his sister for this. Even if the two weren’t on speaking terms, inconsiderate lush, she was angry at her brother for having his own life, and jealous because he was successful. She expected things like a thriving career and personal relationships to be just handed to her without any real work.

IT was childish and selfish, especially that she chose to drink herself nearly to death on several occasions, not caring how it affected her brother. John was a good man and he cared greatly for Harry and he also knew he couldn’t keep rescuing her especially when she had no drive to help herself. At least she managed to hold down a somewhat successful real estate agent.

Sherlock huffed jumping out of the cab, he started for the building spotting Mycroft’s agents as well as the cartel thugs, first things first.

He followed someone into the secure building not having to be buzzed in he’d googled Harry’s address long ago and for some reason stored it in his mind palace under the file John’s Alcoholic Sister. It wasn’t a big file, he only gave it less than minimum space. That’s as much as he’d give a  selfish, needy unappreciative drunk. Why John chose to socialize with her was beyond the dark haired sociopath. And Sherlock thought his own older sibling was bad, at least Mycroft refrained from spewing the regurgitated contents of  a cheap wine bottle all over his shoes and those of his flatemate's on his birthday of all days.

He knocked but there was no answer, he knew Mycroft’s men would have been gone if she wasn’t home, pressing an ear to the door he could hear someone moving around. He could pick it easy but Harry was so mundane, so very ordinarily predictable that Sherlock lifted the decorative plastic house plant just to the side of her door and found a key underneath.

“Dull.” He muttered entering without any further announcement.

 

Harry was beating her head against the refrigerator door in the kitchen, Sherlock knew almost immediately what she was doing, he watched curiously the outward struggle and suddenly felt something akin to empathy, no that had to be wrong. Still the way her hands trembled and she gripped the door of her stainless steel refrigerator, the eager anticipation in her now dark eyes as she pulled the bottle from the freezer turning to remove the cap.

 

“Not a very good year.” Sherlock was in front of her within three strides, is this what John felt when he found Sherlock ready to give in to the temptation of the needle. Anger, pity and resolution, knowing that he wouldn’t allow Sherlock to give into his demons? Well Sherlock would do what he was sure his friend would have done, if he was there. Besides Harry Watson didn’t get to find an escape, no they would find John first then she could go off and drink herself into liver failure for all he cared. Right now he needed to find John and that was why he was intervening. Not sentiment, not out of commonality no they weren’t the same, she was an impulsive, argumentative, selfish attention starved drunk. She drank for escape from her boring life, well if he had her life he would find himself indulging too out of sheer boredom.

 

“Hey!” Harry growled as the consulting detective snatched the bottle from her walking over to the sink and dumping it out almost immediately.

 

 


	5. appointments

**CHAPTER 5. MISSED APPOINTMENTS  
**

Helena held the bag of euros close to her side, all she had to do was wait now, and she'd purposely meant to show up early for the drop. They had no reason to not deliver Abbs, no reason at all. Once she got her friend back all would be well again.

Then the two would head to New Zealand lay low for a while, just until this whole D'Arma thing blows over. She glanced behind her as she approached the designated spot, freezing almost immediately something was off, it was wrong. She waited, scanning the area, nothing was standing out, the street was empty and she was almost at the bridge. She needed to focus, she needed to know Abbs was ok, as soon as she had confirmation then she would relax, lack of sleep was putting her on edge. How could she let this happen? She should have kept a better eye on her friend, should have paid closer attention.

Her phone vibrated thinking it the kidnappers she took it out instead it was someone who shouldn't have her number, oh she had his, but she'd changed this number how did he have have it?

"Why?" The familiar baritone demanded.

"Darling, no _hello how are you_?" she purred searching the area, he couldn't know where she was right away, maybe tracking her, that of course would take at least five minutes.

"Where is he?"

"Nothing personal Sherlock. I wont try to explain it you wouldn't understand."

"Where is he?"

"Just tell his sister to do what they say, they honor their word they'll give him back in one piece."

"I will find you and-"

"Awe didn't mummy ever teach you it's impolite to talk to a woman that way? Really what would your brother say?" Helena knew it was cruel to goad him, but it was a knee jerk reaction, _**The Woman**_ was already on edge, his seething voice didn't help her nerves.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him yourself?" Helena froze.

"What have you done?" she gasped.

"Nothing personal. I wont try to explain you wouldn't understand." Sherlock threw her own words at her harshly making her wince.

Several cars started to pull out of the side alley, dark tinted windows, black expensive government cars. She could hear heavy boots on the cement rushing up on her.

"No! No ! What have you done!?" Helena yelled into the phone and the line went dead. "I'm sorry Abbs." Helena whispered as someone relived her of her bag and another set of heavy hands pulled her towards an awaiting car.

**~0~**

"Water?" a heavily accented voice asked. The blond turned her head slowly damn this headache. Jesse had taken out four men, before they overwhelmed her and someone got a few cheap shots in after she'd been drugged.

"It's not drugged Senora." Jesse stubbornly moved her head from the offered water bottle; she'd rather die of thirst than accept anything from them.

"You'll be out of here soon as long as your hermana (Sister) pays my cousins price. If she doesn't-"

Jesse glared at him "As soon as I'm free I'll kill you myself." She hated how her own words sounded hoarse and weak.

"You know what Yesse, I believe you. I truly do. And that is why, you understand that I keep your hands bound. Lo siento. (I'm sorry) Please drink, the drugs leave your head pounding and mouth like you swallowed sand. It's not drugged."

He took a swig then offered it to her. Jesse did need a drink but she couldn't.

"Fuck off."

The Spanish man with the olive skin and gold eyes sighed heavily he put the opened water bottle next to her and sat down beside her on the cement floor, the cell was bare except a drain in the floor, a small one.

Jesse shifted away from him, rolling herself over to sit up, and put distance between her and the stranger. She understood the purpose of a room with a drain. It made for easy clean up.

"Please enlighten me Senora, how a professional such as yourself finds herself in this predicament? My cousin hired and personally contacted you to do one thing. Your sister Helena said she would fulfill the duty but then you receive the payment and instructions only to return the money and decline the job. And after Alejandro had put so much faith in you already. He does not like for plans to be altered once contracts are set in stone. So I wonder why? Obviously it can not be for reasons of conscious, assassins and spies do not have these things. It is a liability no?"

Jesse moved further away from the strange man in the expensive gray suit, until her back was to the corner and he was not across from her diagonally.

The blond sniper tried to remember Mr. Expensive suit's name, she'd seen him through her scope when Helena was having a conference with him and another one, they were half Spanish half Greek. She cursed hindsight; she should have just squeezed the trigger then, saved her and Helena this trouble. Damn her head hurt, that water did look tempting.

"So is he family? You both have the same blond hair? I haven't spoken to him and he does have a sister that resembles you." Jesse scowled.

Was he talking about Captain Watson? He had a sister? Huh, she never thought to ask. So they had him then, dammit how-. She swore under her breath, thinking to herself. _'Please Helena tell me you didn't do this.'_

"No, maybe not family, or your sister would not have helped kidnap him. We do funny things for family I think. So what is he lover or friend?" Jesse rolled her eyes, did it always come down to that? He must have noticed her frown because he leaned back. "Maybe friend."

Did this guy sound hopeful, like they would go out for a cup of coffee after this?

"I must go. Tu hermana is going to make the drop and you will be back with her. Everyone is happy."

Jesse winced sitting up straighter, the door to the room clicked and locked loudly after the Greek-Spaniard whatever had left. She leaned against the wall, rocking her head back so that it hit the wall several times, she deserved this pain, her hand went to her injured side, definitely a fractured rib.

"Sorry John. Dammit." She murmured.

The blond had every intention of warning the Captain, that's why she'd written the postcard, they were to meet a few days ago. Instead she was ambushed. These bastards actually got the jump on her, that D'Arma was one sadistic bastard that's for sure. She knew what he did to those that went against him and then didn't pay. Hopefully John's got some loaded friends or Sherlock will have to rob a bank to get him back.

The thought of Sherlock waltzing into a bank, holding an AK?

No, not an AK, it's too generic too predictable. Maybe a chrome plated 45, and he would be shouting something like;

"I am robbing this bank, get down on the floor with your hands on your heads. And I will allow you to continue on with your painfully dull little lives, I really should just end it for you as a mercy really. Dont be boring and just do as I say."

Jesse pulled out of this daydream laughing to herself, yeah, Sherlylocks would rob a bank, but if she got out of here alive she'd help him.


	6. Intrested party

**CHAPTER 6. INTRESTED PARTY**

"Buenas noches, Doctor." John didn't reply, lifting his head from against his chest, hands still tied.

"Who are you? What do you want?" John forced out, his mouth felt so damn dry, and the head ache wasn't any better.

"My name isnt really important. I doubt you've heard of me. We don't keep to the same social circles."

"What do you want?" John allowed his irritability to show in his voice.

"Oh, I thought since I have a little time, I could ask you a few questions." John didn't reply. The tall olive skinned man in the expensive gray suit leaned nonchalantly against the closed door, a flickering neon light above only added to John's headache. "How long have you known Yesse?"

"Who?"

"You'll forgive me if I do not know her last name. Snipers are often very secretive. But I do believe she sometimes goes by The Australian."

"Oh, that Yesse? Never heard of her." John replied easily, rolling his aching shoulders a bit, his wrists long since numb. What the hell was this guy talking about? Great kidnapped by another psycho.

"Now come Doctor, I know you know her. She after all is the reason you're here." This caught John's attention.

"What?"

"Well in a way I should say. She has found herself in some trouble you see. And it's really your fault."

"How's that?"

"She and her hermana agreed to accept the contract on you. However when she received the information she refused. This of course could not be. My cousin Alejandro, had her kidnapped and now here we are."

"What the hell does this have to do with my sister?" John growled.

"Oh, she just has to say what my cousin wishes and you'll be home as well. This is not what I've come here to ask. I just wanted to know how you know Yesse. Were you two lovers?" Now John had to laugh,

"Am I taking crazy pills? I don't know a Yesse and I don't know what the hell you want, but I do know when I get out of here I'm going to make you wish I hadn't!"

"Alright fine. Fine. You claim to have no knowledge of Yesse, or Helena-"

"Wait! What! Are you talking about Helena and Jesse? You mean Abby? Where is she?"

"She is like you detained for now."

"Let me get this straight, you're cousin hired Jesse and Helena to kidnap me so my sister would do what he wanted? What exactly is she to do?" John squinted his eyes, the drumming in the back of his head worse while he tried to sort this mess out.

"She's supposed to testify this is all you need to know." John sighed heavily.

"You mean, this has nothing to do with my flatmate?"

"No, why who's your flatmate?" John laughed now, he couldn't help it, this situation was too much. So it was Harry this time, that's a first. Usually it's Sherlock's fault but okay, this was interesting. "You find your situation amusing?"

"Yes. Actually I do. Oh, you have no idea what you've got yourself into." John rested his head on his knees.

"Is that a threat Doctor?"

"No, not at all. It's a promise. It might be in your best interest to let me and my friend go."

"Ah! So she's just a friend." John shook his head what the hell was this guys deal? Was that a hopefulness in his voice?

"Good, do you happen to know maybe what her favorite color is?"

"Are you insane? No, no I don't know her damn favorite color. If you're hoping to get a date I would advise waiting at least a month after this whole thing, that's if you're still alive."

"Ah, so you cant be very close if you don't know what she likes."

"Can't a man and a woman be friends in this day and age honestly?"

"Sure, sure. I'm glad you are only friends, I would have hated to have to kill you. I'm not one for competition, it's the Spanish-Greek fire in my veins."

"Right-o Casanova. Thanks for the warning. Now do you think I could get some water and maybe my hands untied?"

"I think we can come to an arrangement for some water. I am sorry about your hands, I have orders to keep you tied. You understand amigo."

"Fine, water is good." John was trying to keep the irritation to a minimum, he really did want some water.

"Then you can tell me what Yesse likes? I mean, food, flowers?"

"Oh, mate you're talking to the wrong guy. The things we talk about are guns and of course we omplain about flatmates."

"Hmm, this would not help me I think." Before he could continue his mobile started to ring, "Hola!" John watched the man freeze up, he actually looked sick. "Yo, entiendo." (I understand) The Spaniard looked sadly at his phone. "I am very sorry Doctor, it seems I will have to go now. I have new orders."

"New orders? Is it Harry?" the olive skinned man grimaced, and John felt a hard rock settle in his stomach.

"No, your sister is safe for now. She is in her flat. However it seems I will have to execute Yesse." To the Spaniards credit, John thought he did sound genuinely upset by this fact.

"Wait! Wait!" John was on his feet "Stop! Dont! Just, just think it over!"

"There is nothing I can do Seniore. I will have Carlos bring you water. I hope your sister can follow directions better than-Helena. It would be a shame to have to send you home in pieces as well." John watched as the tall dark haired man took a gun from the holster inside his suit. He started out the door.

John tried to say something anything, but it was futile and the door was shut tightly behind him. "Dont do it!" he yelled but no one listened.


	7. SISTERS

**CHAPTER 7**. **SISTERS**

"I'm going with you!" Harry grabbed her coat.

"Fine. Just stay quiet. I'm thinking."

"Who was that you were just on the phone with?" Harry ignored the command. Sherlock scowled in reply.

"Listen. Alright, I get that we aren't exactly the best of friends. I know I'm not John Watson."

"Clearly." Harry continued once again ignoring the biting remark.

"This is my fault. I should have just stayed out of it. And when those goons came around threatening I told them to go fuck themselves, mainly because I hate being told what to do. So, now they have my brother. And they are going to kill him! I'm not stupid, even if I do testify like they want say everything they want, they'll still kill him. So, you are going to tell me what you're going to do to get him back, ALIVE."

"Me?" Sherlock snapped.

"Yes, you! Mister mysterious coat, mister curly haired know it all. You aren't going anywhere without me. Seeing how you just dumped out my only chance at finding a goodnight sleep and calm nerves."

"Some people try tea." Sherlock offered tetchily.

"And some use drugs." She crossed her arms over her chest, her blond hair falling over her shoulders.

"You are nothing like John."

"Yeah, well I haven't heard that like all my life. Now, tell me who the hell you were just on the phone with? And why you think you and your brother who ever the hell he is, can get John out of this mess?"

"Do we have the time for all this."

"Paraphrase it then!" she shouted.

"Fine, your brother was led into a trap by an acquaintance that was hired by the D'Arma family. He is being held at some unknown location. Well, my brother and his government men have caught the woman responsible, now they will take her to an undisclosed government place for questioning. And that is were we are off to. First we have to slip past the men watching the place."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Easily. But we will have to hurry you might want to put on sensible shoes. I wont have you slowing me down." Harry rolled her eyes and started for the bedroom.

Sherlock was about to deliver another cutting remark when he caught sight of the picture under the star magnet. His analytical eyes dissected the scene piece by piece.

"You were a smoker even then." Sherlock stated, John's sister only shrugged.

"Yeah, just gave it up. Impossible to keep a smoking habit in London." She pulled her coat on. Sherlock didn't turn to look at her instead he studied John's rounded face. "He's always been disgustingly happy. No matter what, he could smile on the rainiest of days."

"He still likes to walk through the park." Sherlock frowned. He could see the happy expression on his friend's young face, he had hopeful eyes, he just wanted his sister to be happy too, to enjoy the day and to return a smile. Oh, John, a simply complicated puzzle of a boy that would become even more so of a man.

_**~0~** _

"Give me my phone!" Helena demanded slamming her small fists onto the metal interrogation table.

"You are in no position to make demands." A run of the mill government agent snapped.

"You have no idea what you've done!" Helena snarled at the dark haired government agent.

Mycroft watched the two argue through the observation glass, his brother stood beside him and John's sister only paced.

"Something's wrong." Sherlock stated "Where's her phone. I want it."

"It has a code brother, and something tells me it's not the same password as last time. Seeing how her affections have altered. Not to mention the fact that she is supposed to be dead. I wonder how she isnt dead? A topic in which I'm sure you'll be debriefing me on later."

"The phone Mycroft!" Sherlock growled.

Helena stood now, pushing her chair back from the metal table she approached the glass. "If you have questions you come ask me yourself! And bring me my phone!"

"Is that her? Is she the one that sold my brother out?" Harry glared at the blond woman, wanting nothing more than to march into that room and beat the living hell out of the stranger with the pail skin and perfect cheekbones.

"Harry do shut up, I m trying to think." Sherlock snapped he was holding the mobile in his hand as if speculating it's weight.

"Helena. What a coincidence." Sherlock entered the room ignoring the agent.

"My mobile. Now." The ex dominatrix held out a shaky hand.  
"Going to tell me why you want it so bad this time? Why were you carrying so much money on you and in a convenient duffel bag?Not your normal accessory."  
Just then the mobile started to buzz, Sherlock glanced quickly at the two way mirror, he handed the mobile to the woman, knowing Mycroft's people were attempting to trace the call.

"Hello." Helena's voice trembled.

"No-wait. You don't understand-please! Stop! I have the money!" the line went dead and Sherlock could see the color completely leave the woman's face. Her eyes pooling with water, she stared at the mobile in her hand, an incoming message and she mechanically pressed the code in. **_Sister_**. Simple really.

Sherlock leaned closer it was a video file. "Looks like your sister did not come through. Any last words?" A Spanish accented voice spoke, and the camera phone focused on a familiar blond looking up from her kneeling position, blue eyes locked onto the camera. She gave a weak smile.

"Don't watch. Don't watch." She repeated. "This isn't your fault. Don't watch. It's alright." Sherlock realized what he was witnessing, the camera swiveled to an olive skinned man, presumably the speaker.

"You were given precise directions. It seems your family isn't worth as much as we assumed." He smiled sadly and Sherlock could see him draw a weapon form inside his gray suit jacket. He aimed the camera moving towards the young blond sniper and back to himself. Sherlock could read hesitation and then a cold determination. "Expect your first package tomorrow." And the sound of two shots exploded from the speaker, Sherlock didn't miss the blood that sprayed the olive skinned strangers face. Helena only dropped her phone, undisguised horror twisting her expression, then pain a heavy pain weighing her down until she fell to her knees. Two more shots echoed from the phones speakers, causing both the detective and the woman to flinch. "A pity Helena, she had such a pretty face." And the video call ended.

Sherlock didn't have time to think, the blond haired woman flung herself at him, Agent Hunt intercepted the smaller woman before she reached her target.

"You better Kill me! I will kill you! You here me Mycroft Holmes you better kill me!" She screamed wildly clawing at the agent trying to hold her.

"Irene! What about John where is he?" Sherlock demanded.

"Even if I knew I could never help you! I hope he dies too! It will be your fault! It will be your fault!" She shrieked madly as another agent moved to take her arm and lead her away.


	8. EXCHANGE OF HANDS

**CHAPTER 8. EXCHANGING PLACES**

John had strained to hear the sounds beyond the door, he heard arguing and shouting but to his relief there was no gunfire. The sounds of foot prints just outside the thick door, the lock clicked and he tensed standing now ready, well as ready as he cold be with his body sore, shoulders numb and hands tied.

"Hello Doctor." It was the man in the gray suit, his black hair looked a little disheveled as if he'd ran his hands through it several times. He yelled something in Spanish or Greek maybe a mixture and the door slammed and locked behind him. John squinted in the dim light, his eyes falling on the olive skinned strangers arms, he was holding several bottles of water.

"I have brought you something to drink. Please sit, we have a little time to talk."

John didn't move instead he thought of several ways he could knock out his kidnapper.

Watching for an opening the Doctor's eyes stayed on the olive skinned man, who now removed the lid to the water bottle placing the others at his side and took a seat near John. "It would not be in your best interest to attack me Doctor, I am not carrying a gun on me but the men at the door will shoot you without question and that is bad for you and for business. So sit. Toma-" He offered the bottle to John. "Drink. It's not poisoned." John shrugged regretting this motion, his shoulder crying out against this motion, he plopped down.

"Trouble is a thing my cousin Pepe manages to find himself in no matter. I feel sorry for Alejandro, his little brother always causing such problems. That is why we are here, this whole mess. Alejandro just cant see his baby brother go to jail. You are lucky, you have but one sibling." John eyed the water suspiciously. "It's not poisoned or drugged. I give my word. Mira!(look)". The man took a swig, without allowing his lips to touch the top. John frowned and accepted the water, he drank greedily.

"Thanks." John swallowed leaning back his head still aching. "My sister?"

"Is alive still. Alejandro has no reason to kill her."

" And Jesse?"

"You have the same sharpness in your eyes, like Yesse. This is why I thought you maybe her brother, but now I think you were in the military yes?" John didn't miss the fact this man avoided the question, he wondered if he should disclose anything to this man and just remained quiet. "It is an interesting thing Doctor Watson to be a soldier and a healer. Contradiction the two roles. Taking lives and saving them. You have seen war I think."

"I only killed because I had to."

"We all have our reasons." The olive skin man offered John more water, the doctor accepted.

"There is no comparison to what you represent and kill for and what I-" the other man made a hand gesture meant to push the argument aside.

"It is not something I care to debate. I do what I must for my family, you would do the same."

"My family isn't a bunch of gangster drug dealing arms brokers and whatever it is I'm guessing you're apart of. Even so I would never be apart of the 'family business' if that were my lot in life."

"It's a good guess you made. We are that obvious?" John didn't reply.

"You are a good man Doctor. You remind me of another good man I once knew. So, I will give you the water, Carlos will not be in after all. You will not miss him he's the idiot from earlier. The one who allowed you to talk to your sister. No great loss I think. I believe that such a man with your morals must have a strong sense of family. So, I believe your sister Enriquieta will follow the directions to the letter. She would wish you back in one piece, yes. You will be returned for a fairly decent holders fee. You understand, I'm sure. Alejandro is a businessman, after all. You have a good life Doctor. I think in another time you and I could have been friends. I knew a man like you, he too had his convictions. Convictions are the burden of the poor man."

"No, they are solace of a free man's conscience." John replied quickly, surprised that the olive skin man only smiled he pulled a knife from his pocket. John was on his feet ready for attack.

"Calmate'. I'm only going to cut you free. Unless you wish to remain like this" John reluctantly turned tensing as the sharp knife neared his wrists.

"Don't try to overpower me Doctor, I am a reasonable man. I do have a man outside who will not hesitate to shoot." With that the Mr. Gray suit applied a bit of pressure cutting through the strong nylon cord.

"Fair enough." John replied easily feeling the ropes fall away he started to shake his hands, willing the blood to flow into his fingers.

"Are you going to kill Jesse?"

"It is of no more concern to you."

"I have money-" John wondered if he could borrow the money from Sherlock, he had some cash squirreled away, hell he'd rob a damn bank to get it if he had to.

"It is a sad thing this world does not have enough good men in it."

"It's never too late to be one." John offered.

"My brother said this same thing to me."

"Sounds like a decent bloke, you should listen to him." John knew he was clutching at straws but he had to try.

"Yes, I would have. Except like most good men who go to war he never returned. I'm sure you know this more than anyone else. Let's just hope it's not the case with you. Adio!" And John just stared at the door, five minutes later he heard the sound of gun shots, he counted two. He angrily flung the half full water bottle at the door swearing savagely, placing his head on his knees defeated, he had hoped up until then that the man in the gray suit would grow a conscience.

Another twenty minutes rolled by or maybe an hour, he wouldn't know there wasn't a clock on the wall and he didn't even have a watch or a mobile. He was only aware that some time had passed, when the lights in his small cell started flickering and he felt the ground beneath him tremble slightly, more gunfire, heavier weapons not hand guns that was for sure.

The ex soldier, sprang to his feet, thinking, hoping it was Sherlock, that he and Mycroft found him. His door swung open, and when several men surged forward he swore out loud, losing all hope instantly.

**~0~**

"Anthony D'Arma, what a surprise." The man in the gray suit stiffened he'd been moving towards his parked black Mercedes just outside the abandoned warehouse, when a very familiar Greek accented baritone voice called out to him.

"Turn around now, real slow, you know how my men can be trigger happy." The voice's stern owner, warning with his eyes as well as his gun to the younger man.

"Sure, Stephan. Let me just pop my trunk and I'll discard this dead body. You know I have my hands full always with work."

"Yes." The Greek man in the white suit approached, "Always the loyal dog."

"What can I say? Will you or one of your men be so kind as to take my keys and pop the trunk. Stephanos inspected the object wrapped in a gray blanket. He could see the blood smears, and the long blond hair.

"Killing women now I see. Alejandro has no honor left."

"Well you know my cousin." Anthony held tighter to the body shifting his weight he coughed. "If you could. She is light but I really don't care for the blood on this suit it's Armani!"

"Of course. Leo! The trunk." One of the men moved forward turning the key already in the lock. Anthony placed the body inside; he pulled the trunk closed, without latching it. Raising his bloodstained hands up in surrender. Allowing another man in black holding a gun checked his pockets, patting him down."

"Your cousin Guiseppe killed my brother. And is now Alejandor is tampering with the witness. I think this is no good. Especially when I made arrangements for Guiseppe to be greeted so kindly when he reaches the prison."

"We'll looks like he's ruining everyone's week." Anthony replied coolly.

" I didn't expect to bump into you. But since I'm here might as well see what we can get for you. Or at the very least we can kill you later." Anthony didn't move. "Bring him, put him in the van with the Doctor." Stephanos Andreas ordered one of his men.

Anthony didn't put up with a fight he allowed himself to be bound and hauled away from his Mercedes, he looked sadly towards his expensive car and shook his head.

"Where will you take us Andreas?" he asked casually as if checking the weather or the time.

"You'll see. Somewhere I can keep an eye on you."

Anthony D'Arma was helped none to gently into the transport van, where he sat next to a very irritable Doctor. "Doctor, so we meet again." He sighed bracing himself for what was to come. Sure enough Doctor Watson did not disappoint, his dark blue eyes narrowed and without another word the blond head butted Anthony with enough force it broke the olive skinned man's nose slamming the gray suited Anthony back into one of the three armed men positioned in the back of the van.

"Bastard!" The blond Doctor swore savagely. "I'll kill you!" the other men in the back laughed.

"Shut them up!" The van's driver yelled.

John fought against the gag and they forced him into a far corner. Ignoring the flash of a camera phone and the man holding a gun to his head.

"Well Doctor, I'm afraid you will have to take your turn." Anthony sniffed, his eyes watering he ignored the blood dripping from his broken nose. Not the first time or the last it had been broken.

After the men loaded the compliant Anthony D'Arma into their black transport van, the trunk of the Mercedes opened and Jesse cautiously looked around. She swore under her breath, her head still aching she climbed down picking up her browning, that one of the men had taken off that Anthony fella.

"Well hello old friend, thought I'd lost you." She checked the slide. "Going to need more than this I think." She checked hot wired the car easily, discarding her bloody gray t-shirt, the black tank top beneath just as equally but less noticeably stained with the blood of one of her captors.

Anthony D'arma hadn't shot her, this was confusing, even more so was the new players joining late in the game. Jesse hated being only half informed, there was more going on here and she needed to get the full story before going any further. And that was where Helena always came in handy in the gathering of data department. She had an unlimited amount of resources.

First she needed to find Helena, if her friend hadn't made the drop that meant someone scooped her up. Jesse refused to believe her friend would forsake her, she would never do that.

So someone or something had to have stopped her from making that drop, and that someone she guessed to be a certain Holmes seeing how the Doctor's kidnappers were aided by her cunning sociopathic flatmate slash associate.

Anytime Doctor Watson was involved better believe his faithful sniffer dog and by extension the British Government would be close behind.

"Oh Helena look what you've got us into now." Jesse would definitely need Helen's help on this one, and after this mess was sorted they would have a long talk about the difference between extraction and kidnapping. One Jesse had no qualms taking a contract for, the other was a deal breaker. And for good reason, the predicament she was in being a prime example!


	9. brothers

**CHAPTER 9. BROTHERS**

"Did you go over the list of properties? He has to have my brother at one-"

"Ms. Watson I have the best and the brightest of my government men and women on this task. If you would just sit and have your tea."

"Sod the tea!" Harry growled. "And sod this! This-this waiting game! I say you start twisting bamboo or water boarding that tart! To get a location of where my brother is! Or, let me! Better yet why aren't we torturing that Guiseppe idiot!" Sherlock couldn't help but flash an amusing grin from the corner of his brother's office. Mycroft however shook his head taking a deep breath attempting to remain professional and calm.

"She has a point." Sherlock offered.

"This is still a civilized country we wont go off and torture-" Harry turned away her mobile buzzing, she didn't catch the look of absolute irritation flashing across the older Holmes's face.

"Harry Watson." She answered "What? Is this a joke?" Harry pulled the pink mobile away from her ear and hit speaker. "I'm sorry say that again?"

"I said Miss Watson I do believe we have to talk. It seems you are about to fraudulently give false testimony in regards to a certain Guiseppe D'Arma. I am calling to convince you otherwise."

"Oh?" Harry replied haughtily. Sherlock could tell she was more worried than defiant.

"Yes. You see, I have something that you would very much want back. I found him while renovating a friend's old warehouse. You know what you have to do Ms. Watson. Just be sure that you testify that my dear brother was gunned down in cold blood. Or, I'll be sure your brother shares the same fate."

"How do I know you have him? I want proof of life!" Harry demanded.

"Temper, temper."

"Cut the shit, and let me talk to him." Harry demanded irritably.

"As you wish." The man on the other phone growled. "Doctor say hello to your sister." There was no answer jus the sound a muffled groan, "Oops, I forgot he cant talk with his mouth gagged. And my foot kicking him." More shuffling, "Doctor say hello to your sister she's worried."

"Hello again Harry. I think this is the most I've talked to you in a year."

"Yeah. Too bad they have to put a gun to your head to make it possible." She huffed.

"Awe, that's enough. Now do as I said and I'll return your little brother to you in one piece."

"Wait!" but the line went dead, soon after Harry received a picture message, she didn't need to open it to see that it was of her brother.

Harry went to through her phone against the wall but Mycroft caught her wrist forcefully, surprising her as well as his brother.

"Not a good idea Mrs. Watson. They may call back again. And I really don't feel like scrambling around to find you another phone running the risk of missing another call."

"A fat lot of help you two are! He's always going on about how you two are his best mates. You've done nothing and now he's out of the frying pan into the fryer! Do something!" She pulled her hand free glaring at both brothers, "One of you just do something! My brother is going to die, weather I testify or not. I'm not stupid. Just, hurry up and do something."

"Harriett-" Mycroft started but the blond only turned angrily on him hands on her hips.

"My brother was a lot safer in Afghanistan then around you two." She snapped moving to through herself into the small antique couch near the door.

**~0~**

Jesse remained quiet she waited as the thin blond and Sherlylocks argued just outside 221B. She could care less who the blond was, it wasn't important, checking her browning she moved in quickly slipping back into the alley. IT wasn't hard to take out the three agents just outside the building. Idiots, if that was the best the British Government had to offer, then God save the Queen.

"Harriett I know he's important to you. But this arguing and whining isn't going to help anyone. It's hard to think with your excessive chatter! Just shut up! Before I gag you myself, or worse let Mycroft put u in a safe house somewhere in the black forest."

"I dare you to try Sherlock Holmes!"

Jesse took her chance when the blond walked past the darkened alley, if this was John's sister than maybe a little leverage would help.

"Don't move there princess." Jesse growled placing a heavy hand on the blonde's shoulder, and pushing her browning firmly into the material of black peacoat. "I will shoot you."

"Great wonderful, today I officially bad to worse. Listen babes, if you want my watch and wallet just take it. I'm really not in the mood to be robbed by a hooker but whatever at this point I can care less! Just do me a favor if you're going to shoot anyone shoot that pompous ass first!" Jesse ignored the blonde's words.

"Abbs?"

"Surprise. And you thought you and Helena were the only one clever enough to fake death."

"How?"

"I don't have the time to explain. Where's Helena? I have a feeling she's a guest of the British Government's"

"Good deduction."

"I want her back."

"Abbs let Harry go."

"I'll make a trade her for you, and then to your brother you for Helena. Sounds fair. Or, we do this the hard way. I shoot her, then you and your brother. And by default John is shot as well. No witness no testimony-"

"You! You work with that bitch that had my brother kidnapped." Harry turned on woman with the gun, her blue eyes stormy.

"Shut it princess. I have had the worst kind of week and I'm itching to shoot someone right now. Anyone! I don't want to see the Captain hurt, but I will do what I have to for Helena's safety."

"The fall of Troy indeed." Sherlock sighed shaking his head.

"Keep it to yourself Nancy Drew! I want her back! And now! Or I'll pop the princess and then I'll take out your knee caps." Jesse snapped.

"Alright, Abbs, I'll see what I can do but you'll need to trust me. I'm sure I can-"

"I don't trust anyone. Would you? With the Captain? You have to know Helena didn't mean for any of this, she didn't have a choice."

"Right-and neither did you I suppose." Sherlock turned up the collar of his coat, then shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I was going to warn him! These fuckers jumped me!"  
"Oh, but you're not dead. What did you leave my brother and save your own skin?" Harry growled eyes still narrowed on the woman with the gun.

"Your little criminal girlfriend is some terrorist, spy unworthy of the mud on my shoes! My brother fought for his country he came home with medals, he is a Doctor and as if that all isn't enough he has to go and get himself mixed up solving crime and seeking justice not for his own benefit! No that wouldn't be anything like the selfless do gooder bastard! He does it for kicks, for kicks! As well as it's the right thing to do. He's always trying to do the right thing. It's irritating as all hell! You try and stand next to him, 'Hello everyone this is my brother Johnny, oh why yes he's a Doctor and a war hero. Yes that blog is his. He helps that twit Sherlock Holmes solve crimes for the Yard. No, they aren't paid for it, he does it for free. Yes he's a saint isn't he!? Oh me, well I'm just into real estate. Yes, it's all fun and good.' Oh how very frustrating. " Harry was yelling at the top of her lungs now, unaware she'd lost track of her original rant. "And you-you think this woman this-this Helena is something special. If my brother doesn't make it back alive from this little ordeal-You better kill me because I am not my brother, I do not believe in forgiveness. I will hunt u down and make you wish you so very sorry."

Jesse and Sherlock just stood staring at John Watson's sister, both trying to find a fitting response.

_**~0~** _

"Sir." Mycroft looked up from his computer, his PA clutched her own mobile in her hands, face clear of all emotion.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Your brother sir, it's Sherlock. He's broken out the prisoner."

"Where is he now?"

"Sir the men lost his location two minutes ago." Mycroft sighed irritably pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. He then took up his mobile and sent a quick text.

" _ **Where are you brother dear? And what are you up to?"-MH**_


	10. CHANGE OF CLOTHES

**CHAPTER 10. CHANGE OF CLOTHES**

"Hey Princess! Stop pacing! It's making me nervous." Jesse snapped, she pulled her blond hair back into a tight ponytail, grateful for the quick shower and fresh clothes. Although they weren't exactly something she'd purchase, a pair of black dress slacks and a pink short sleeved jumper made of cashmere. Cleaning the blood from one of her boots Jesse discreetly looked out the window again, the government agents were still in position, spotting immediately another car belonging to John's new kidnappers. Amateurs.

"Piss off. I need a cigarette or a drink, seeing how I have neither available I'm going to pace. Pacing is comforting right now." Harry snapped back.

"I know I promised I wouldn't kill you. But Sherlylocks never said I couldn't shoot you."

"Whatever. You don't scare me." Harry froze as if she remembered something.

"What the hell are you up to?" Jesse irritably continued to clean her favorite boots, damn bloodstains were really soaked in.

John's sister was emptying out a jar, moving to another one spilling pasta out all over the counter. She scowled pushing past the blond sniper, Harry opened the coat closet in hopes of finding a forgotten pack of cigarettes in one of her older coats.

"I have cigarettes stashed somewhere I'm sure of it. I used to hide them from John and Clara in the pockets of my old jackets."

"Clara another sibling of yours?" Jesse read the birthday card on the refrigerator curiously. Harry only snorted.

"Hell no. She's the ex wife." This didn't surprise or faze the sniper; instead she took the picture from under the star magnet.

"Is this John?"

"Yeah, who else would it be?" Harry snatched the picture away, Jesse was about to say something instead she dropped her boot and drew her browning.

"Dammit, times up" Jesse swore just as the door to Harry's flat burst open, she pushed the browning into the blond's hands shoving the gun and annoying Watson into the open closet closing the door behind her.

"Harry Watson?" A booming male voice demanded.

"Yup, that's me. Ex alcoholic, chain smoking divorced lesbian whose only goal in life is to annoy the hell out of everyone who tries to help her. Slash real estate agent. Did I mention I hate my job, happiness, sunshine and probably puppies as well?" Jesse grinned hearing an irritated protest from inside the closet.

One of the men in an expensive black Italian suit, pushed the remark aside.

"Anyone else here?" two other men started searching the rooms, Jesse remained leaning against the closet door, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah, just me and my damn cat Princess. Careful she's a moody one."

"Whatever. Come along." Mr. Sunglasses gestrued towards her after his two men reappeared having found nothing during their short search.

"If I don't?"

"Then we shoot you and your brother."

"Oh, so you are the ones who have the Cap- I mean Johnny?" Jesse put on a worried face and did her best impersonation of John's sister she could, accent and all, she knew she had the whining down perfectly because she wanted to shoot herself just for sounding that annoying.

"We do. We decided it's safer for you both, if we just take you to the court house ourselves, but until the trial we will just make you comfortable."

"I don't suppose I have a choice?"

"No." the man laughed.

"Well then lead the way, mind if I get my coat and my phone?"

"You wont need either princess. Lets go."

It took every ounce of will power in the blond snipper from punching the thug in the face.

"What if the lawyers wish to talk to me? They do have me checking in every few hours. Make sure I don't run or disappear." She argued and the Italian wearing just another expensive suit, and dark glasses shrugged easily.

"Fine, make it quick, and give me your mobile." Really, who wore dark glasses this late at night, it was all so cliché.

"Shoes as well. I don't fancy walking around London in trouser socks." Jesse scowled down at the offensive flimsy material. Nothing wrong with good old fashion army regulation wool socks, green or tan not these hideous things. God, she would never live this down if Helena saw her.

Jesse calmly opened the closet reaching in for a coat, trying to ignore the pink pumps being shoved at her, not wanting to draw attention to the other blond now in the closet she snatched the hideous pink pumps and black peacoat.

"All ready principessa?" Jesse stiffened and she could see Harry holding a hand over her mouth trying not to laugh as she slammed the closet shut.

"Don't-call me princess." Jesse growled, the man laughed and one of his thugs took her arm and lead her out.

_**~0~** _

John examined the cell they had him in, he'd struggled against the nylon rope but it was all so futile. He thought of asking the Spaniard who kept his distance in the farthest corner of the small cell, to help him but thought against it. The ex soldier didn't trust himself yet, both men hadn't said anything two each other since arriving, and the Spaniard seemed a thousand miles away. John refused to think about his friend Jesse right now, anger wasn't going to get him anywhere. He needed to get the hell out of here, these new guys didn't seem the type to let him walk out of here even if his sister did exactly what they wanted. The door opened he tensed.

"I said I'm not going anywhere until I see my brother!" John stiffened, was that Harry? The arguing grew closer to the door. Why would she be here?

"Fine principessa go right in." someone pushed open the heavy metal door and shoved Harry through, her heels clicked under her and she stumbled forward, falling on her knees.

"I hate heels! I don't wear them! Who wears this crap! Bloody uncomfortable." Jesse pulled herself up, rubbing her sore knees. Anthony and John were both standing, as the door slammed shut.

"What the-"

"Johnny." Jesse's eyes shot back to the door. "I told these bastards I wasn't going to comply until I had proof you weren't dead." John held back a laugh that was a perfect impression of his sisters pouty face and her tone of voice.

"Harry?"

"Oh, Johnny they've got you all tied up. Bastards." She hissed loudly, then lowered her voice. She went signaled John to turn around and she pulled at the ropes. "Never fear Captain, you're looking at the holder of the girl guide badge for knot tying, a very high honor, really. Got it on my first try."

"You were a girl guide?"

"Yeah, until I punched Bobby Taylor in the face for taking our biscuits. Girl Guide biscuit selling is a cut throat business, not for the faint of heart."

"How old were you?" John pulled his hands free.

"Um 12. But in my defense he was 13 and a foot taller. They booted me after that, apparently it's frowned upon to tell anyone that their mother is a-"

"Times almost up principessa." One of the guards growled from behind the door.

"Piss off." Jesse shouted back, her accent breaking through "I just want to give my brother a hug, I haven't seen him in ages." John didn't expect to be embraced, or for the browning to be shoved into the waste band of his pants. He did have the decency to blush.

"They have my mobile Johnny, or I would have let your flatmate know not to worry about you. But we both know he'll find a way to get in contact. Be safe. Sorry about this mess I got you in." She looked over to the Spaniard.

John winced "That was a misunderstanding." He tried to explain feeling the reproach in her blue eyes.

"Well, lets not have anymore."

The door swung open once more, John instinctively moved closer to the blond sniper, Jesse gave a quick shake of her head in warning.

"Times up. The boss wishes a meeting with you three." One of the guards announced. This caused both army veterans to frown.

Anthony spoke in Spanish now the two men started arguing, this lead to one of the larger guards to move threateningly towards the defenseless Spaniard. This crowded the small cell, John counted five men all together.

"Sorry cant let you do that mate." Jesse instinctively caught the butt of the gun that swung at the Spaniard, shoving the man back against another armed thug.

The blond sniper snatched the weapon from him easily. John swore under his breath drawing the browning, he used it to take out the thug in a black suit closest to him. "Don't let them get a shot off." John hit another man with the butt of his weapon. "This isn't exactly a good plan. Coordination-"

"Sorry Captain sometimes you just have to improvise. You alright there?" John brought his fist into another guard's abdomen, dropping him easily, trying to work his way out of the headlock he was just put in by another. Jesse caught the AK John had tossed her, turned it around and swung at Mr. Sunglasses, knocking him unconscious. "I told you not to call me a princess."

"Yeah. Fine. Everything is just wonderful." John rasped, trying to pull out of the tightening hold around his neck, deciding on firing the browning at the man's foot. Causing the bigger man to loosen his grip immediately, yelping in pain. John sent a hard fist to the big bastards jaw, cutting the foreign curses short as the man collapsed in a snoring heap against the heavy door.

"So much for not firing." Jesse winced, her ribs still aching from the earlier abuse of the day.

"Hey, improvising." John panted, his shoulder throbbing, "You ok?"

"Yeah, just a little sore."

Anthony stood back eyes wide, the Spaniard counted five of Andres's mean unconscious and disarmed, in less than five minutes.

"Fine. Now what?" Jesse was untying the Spaniard who continued to gape."Who-what just-"

"Oh, yeah, what do we do with him?" John ignored the man's question.

"We aren't going to kill him." Jesse handed Anthony one of the confiscated weapons.

"Well he's not exactly on our side." John knew he wasn't going to get anywhere.

"I kinda owe him." Jesse dug through the pockets of the Mr. Sunglasses finding Harry's pink phone. "Ugh, what is it with pink and your sister? I cant believe you two are related."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." John rubbed rolled his stiff shoulder, "Hang on. How are you not dead?" John narrowed his eyes from Jesse to Anthony "I thought you killed her." The Spaniard finally finding his voice

"I'm not in the business of killing young women." John wanted to say something else but Jesse opened the cell door.

"No time boys, lets roll. I saw six men armed on my way in, but the corridor is empty until we turn left two gaurding the door leading to the the garage and another four guarding the two entrances of the garage. Ready?"

"I'll take point." John collected another small hand gun from one of the men.

"Right, lets move. You, Spaniard, get behind me." Jesse instructed taking Anthony by the forearm he didn't have time to protest John was already heading out the door Jesse on his heels, Anthony barely had time to slam and lock the door behind him.

"At least it's not another warehouse." John muttered. He knew it to be a country estate somewhere just outside of London.

"I would almost prefer a warehouse, more vantage points. Houses have  rooms with doors, too many variables no fixed points, it's too cramped makes me Claustrophobic." Jesse stated unaware that she was holding tight to Anthony's forearm keeping him firmly behind her and at the same time holding her wepon ready for any attack. 


	11. BASICALLY RUN!

**CHAPTER 11. BASICALLY RUN!**

The corridor had been empty just as Jesse had said, except when they went to open the exit leading to the garage they ran into a problem.

"Who seriously uses a coded lock for a garage door!" Jesse fumed, she sent a hard kick to one of the four unconscious men. "If I'd have known I would have kept at least one conscious dammit!"

"It's a pin pad, if Sherlock were here he'd have it unlocked in two minutes." John scowled at the infernal contraption that had the nine steal garage doors locked steadily in place. No one in or out with the cars unless authorized, pretty fancy set up. These Cartel blokes were a different class of criminal John was used to dealing with. The criminals Sherlock and him tracked were of the warehouse sort, big open spaces very dramatic and easy to escape from. This was a house on lock down, and it was absolutely irritating.

"Well Helena would have it cracked and reprogrammed in less than one." He rolled his eyes Helena was no Sherlock Holmes, sure she was smart but Sherlock was a genius, now wasnt the time for debate.

"Somehow I don't doubt that. You should see what she can do to mobiles." John sighed heavily.

"MOBILES!" Jesse and John yelled simultaneously, recalling that Jesse had Harry's phone.

"Dammit, there's no signal in must be the heavy doors, this is pretty big underground garage for a country estate." Jesse whistled low. "Something tells me they do more than holiday here."

"Yes. They make arms trades and sometimes exchanged other merchandise diamonds, money and drugs." Anthony grinned easily finally being able to offer some kind of help, this earned him an odd disinterested look from both of the blonds, Anthony again wondered if they were not related.

John ignored the conversation glancing around the empty garage he spotted one of the security stations they'd knocked the man who had been stationed there out and he was now tied to his chair. The security camera's would give them a good idea of the place's lay out and maybe there was a phone.

The blond and the Spaniard followed him cautiously, "Captain you got an idea?"

John took a look at the monitors, he swore angrily; reaching for the phone on the desk he could hear nothing but dead air. Jesse craned her head over his shoulder the small station was meant for one and they'd pushed the unconscious man in the chair out but it was still a bit cramped.

"Shit!" The kiwi sniper swore, making the Spaniard wince.

"It can never be easy. Never."

"Just calm down Captain, let me think. I'll find us a way out."

"Well you better think quick because it looks like we've got a small army heading our way from that south corridor as well as the stairs."

"Look, that must be the security and staff entrance. It leads out." Jesse tapped the screen well aware of the nearing armed men.

"Well lets get moving."

The three made their way out just as the garage exploded with the echo of heavy booted feet and angry shouts.

The servant's entrance lead them to a stairwell that would lead out onto the grounds and another leading into the house.

Once outside they heard the sound of shouts more men, the cold air was biting John could see the bright moon just above the tree line at the edges of the property. They really were in the middle of nowhere, his heart dropped to his stomach, how fast would Mycroft's people be, it's not like he was a political hostage or any high government official. We'll he'd trust Sherlock, Sherlock would never let him down, even if he had to lead Scotland Yard on a merry police chase that lead here, he would come. He would burst right onto the scene his coat tail flapping behind him like a cape, that annoyed smug look and he'd say something equally irritating and condescending. John couldn't wait.

"Head for the tree line!" John directed slamming the door shut behind him he could hear shouting behind them.

"We aren't equipped for a night in the woods." Jesse scanned the area for a car. "Look captain, how about we take those for a spin." John could see two dirt bikes.

"Uh we're short a bike." The Spaniard started to say but the sniper was already pulling him along the expansive lawn. John followed ducking down they'd managed to go unnoticed but the security lights were being activated with their every movement making loud noises as the bright bulbs burst to life, lighting up the lawn.

"How's the phone signal?" John jumped onto one of the dirt bikes, no helmets, wonderful. He tried not to laugh at the sight of Jesse instructing the very macho Spaniard to get behind her.

"We have one bar, here catch." She tossed the phone to John he dialed a number quickly feeling sweet relief at the sound of the familiar baritone voice on the other line. It was short lived as someone started shooting at him the first bullet just grazed past his shoulder, enough to split the fabric, "Go!" John growled, "Keep north you'll eventually find a road."

"John!" Sherlock demanded.

"Sherlock, please tell me help is on the way."

"We are 15 minutes out John we kept losing the phone signal-" John didn't have a chance to reply he started the engine of the bike. Jesse was disappearing into the dark. "John!" Sherlock's voice had an unusual strain to it, the Doctor thought it must be the signal.

John couldn't think on this too long, he returned fire taking out two men closest to his postion. He started up the bike but didnt get too far due to the fact his back tire was now hissing from the loss of air. He would have to make a run for it. "See you soon then. He stammered into the phone."

Ditching the still running bike, he ended the call heading for the tree line it was a desperate act and useless. Still Captain John Watson still bolted forward, he wasnt a man who gave up too easily.

He stumbled forward, a sharp pain shot up his leg to his waist, the prickly familiar burning warned him he'd been shot, a hand to the source of radiating pain came away sticky, one of the bullets caught him just above the knee.

Two men were advancing all he had was the stolen weapon and one bullet he fired hitting one of the two men and braced himself for the second. When the shot was fired he expected more pain, he'd closed his eyes against it in anticipation.

"What the hell Captain you taking a damn nap?" Jesse reached down to help him stand. The Spaniard hooked an arm under John's armpit, and the blond sniper took the other side. Wide eyed he could see his pursuer laying motionless a few feet away, no doubt a perfect head shot. The sniper didn't know how to do anything else.

"I said to go." John hissed the two were helping him to his feet.

"Yeah, well I'm not one for leaving a man behind. Besides I think it's more comfortable for Tony boy if we walk." John grunted trying to disguise a laugh, through the moonlight he caught the expression on 'Tony's' face, he didn't like the nickname.

"I got to tie this off before I lose more blood." John cringed. "We've got 15 minutes before the calvary arrives."

"Right fifteen minutes, easy as pie." John was leaning against a tree pulling a handkerchief from his pocket he tied it over the hole above his knee, he was pumping out blood steadily, at least it was a clean hit, the pain had spider webbed up his thigh but it could be worse, it could be his knee.

"We've got to keep going Captain, this is a vulnerable spot." Jesse took John's arm, "Tony grab the other side. We should head for the thick there, and we can lay low." The Spaniard did as she instructed, John felt a little light headed the Doctor warning bells were going off but he found himself feeling less and less worried about it. The pain wasn't so bad, he'd had worse and he was still able to stand sort of.

"Doc?" Jesse whispered low her concern apparent, she shot Tony a pleading look.

"What can we do Doctor we are not knowledgeable in this type of thing?" Tony observed the now crimson handkerchief. John leaned back against the tree, he put a shaking hand to the wound.

"It's alright, we'll be out of here soon." At least John hoped this was true. He tried to steady his breathing as several other men started towards them yelling in Italian or some other Latin based language.


	12. MORE RUNNING

**CHAPTER 12. MORE RUNNING  
**

"Captain we need to haul ass! These guys are about to swarm." Jesse signaled for Tony to help get the Doctor to his feet.

John stifled a cry of pain as he stood up, his pant leg was drenched. "I'll just slow you down-"

"Shut up right there. If you dare try to go with some ' ** _go on without_ me. Save yourselves'** bullshit, I will have to punch you and I'm not above hitting an injured man. Now come on." John grunted as they half drug him deeper into the heavily forested area. "Shit!" Jesse ducked down they were being fired at. "Damn these heels!" The blond sniper was about to kick them off when someone shouted.

"Hands! NOW!" The blond sniper froze her back to the authoritative voice heavy with a Latin accent, she looked at Tony and John. "You might want to get down in a minute." she calmly stated in a low voice.

"Oh no-please don't shoot." Jesse held her hands up turning and moving with a limp towards the gunman, John could see just the lone thug, he leaned into the Spaniard who tensed.

"Come on now princess, stop right there." John almost winced feeling sorry for the idiot, he was definitely going to pay for that one, Jesse obviously didn't care to be called princess.

"I think I twisted my ankle." She whined, exaggerating a limp, and John took the opportunity to pull the Spaniard down to the damp ground with him, just as a wild shot sailed right over their heads.

John heard the tell tale snap indicating a breaking bone, followed by a cry in pain, and finished off with a heavy thud.

Jesse had definitely broken the man's arm and knocked him out relieving him of his weapon and his radio. "Who's the princess now?" the blond sniper growled kicking the unconscious man. She tossed the radio towards the staring Spaniard.

"Here Tony you translate. Whatever comes across. Hey, Captain would you like the assault riffle or the handgun." John almost missed the question, caught off guard by the suddenly casual tone one would think the blond woman was offering a choice of appetizer.

"Better stick with the handgun." John quickly snapped out of his daze, he checked the weapon she tossed to him. "three bullets, great." He hissed.

Jesse frowned checking the AK

"I've got a full magazine." Looks like I'll take point. "Stay close Tony and try to keep up." the Spaniard didn't reply he only helped the shorter man stand straighter.

_**~0~** _

Sherlock tried to find the signal Helena had modified an app to help him locate Harry's phone. He knew Mycroft's men were only minutes behind them.

"I really don't know how the even tempered Doctor is related to that harpy!" Helena gingerly put a hand to her left eye, a darkening bruise starting to take shape.

"She does have a similar right hook, well John's is a little harder hitting, but not by much. I would know, I've been hit by both so I am in the unique position to compare."

"Sherlock darling that's not exactly a good thing." Helena rolled her eyes, which was a bad idea seeing how it only cause the tender eyelid more pain.

Sherlock pulled the stolen government vehicle onto the side of the road. He could hear the sound of gunfire, the small signal was nearing, unfortunately as were Mycroft's men, conveniently locked onto Sherlock's signal.

"I cant guarantee you or Abby's safety if my brother's men catch up, you can take the car and hide until the coast is clear-"

"I'm not abandoning her. I don't care what happens to me. I just cant-I need to see her." Helena still didn't believe her friend was alive, it was a second chance at life, dare she hope. What if it was a lie? The sociopath didnt have a reason to lie, and he had broken her out of the cramped cell under some secret government building. What would he gain from deception, and she detected none in the depths of his gray eyes. Her mind kept jumping back and forth between these two options. Dead or alive, dead or alive.

What had their last words been an argument? Yes, and it played over and over in Helena's head, a definite downside to having an eidetic memory.

Helena forced these hesitations and doubts down, but to quiet them forever she needed to hold the shorter blond in her arms to smell the common scent of generic soap, cinnamon, and equally generic face wash. Really Jesse had no real sense of facial maintenance, she refused Helena's face wash because one of the main ingredients was a part of an animal. The animal was dead it wouldn't need it anymore, besides it made your skin so soft.

That all was besides the point, getting off track again, she refocused. Helena needed to be reassured her Abby was alive, she needed tangible proof and maybe she could think again, would be whole once more.

"Here-" Sherlock braced himself, he heard the sound of gun fire nearing, and Mycroft's men in heavy trucks and military grade riot gear were passing them. He could see a helicopter with a search light shining into the trees.

"Do try to not shoot anyone important!" Sherlock shouted.

Receiving no reply the dark haired detective and Helena were moving to get closer to the signal, when a strong hands held them back.

"We have orders to detain you sir. As well as the lady."

"Fine, after I find the Doctor-"

"Sorry. Please don't make use restraints." Agent Daniels cringed at the idea the boss wouldn't be happy, but he had said necessary force.

**~0~**

John fired and caught two more expensive suit wearing thugs. "Really it's like an old mob movie, who wears suits-" John paused when Jesse coughed nudging him in the ribs.

"Uh, I mean, what nice and sensible-I'm going to shut up now, must be the loss of blood." he stated weakly.

"These bastards are relentless." Jesse growled, she heard what sounded like a helicopter above.

"Sounds like reinforcements." John grinned despite the pain in his thigh.

Except Jesse and Tony had a different look, not relief something close to hesitation, and he understood right away.

"Leave me." he tried to catch his breath but stood firm hobbling over to a tree he leaned his aching body into it. "Just leave me. Take the radio and go."

"What I thought we were over this-"

"Leave me. Give me the phone. Head a mile down the road wait for a signal."

"What will it be-and I cant just abandon you here." Jesse protested.

"Yesse is correct, it would be cowardly-"

"Soon this patch of trees and bushes will be swarming with police and government agents. Mycroft can be a bit bitter sometimes and a touch unforgiving. If I know Sherlock he'll have a plan to get Helena out from under Mycroft's thumb. I'll have him leave a car for you with keys a mile up the road, i know it branches off from the one we were brought in on, if you follow this one it'll lead you to a town. So I wont say it again! Go!"

Jesse looked tense, here! Take this."

"That's your browning-"

"Yeah, well you lost yours. You can give it back when we meet up." John nodded.

"You're a Goodman Doctor. A good man." Tony squeezed Johns shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm starting to think you're right mate, good men do tend to get shot." He tensed. "Just go, I wont say it again. " John made his way towards the road Jesse and the Spaniard disappeared into the heavier wooded area, he continued forward there had to be a road, he'd made it a point to check the landscape from the window of the van during his second kidnapping.

That had been the first indication he wasn't getting out alive. No criminal even the stupidest ones allowed a prisoner to see the route taken to a supposedly secret hide out.


	13. SLIGHT OF HAND

**CHAPTER 13. Slight of Hand**

Sherlock met Helena's eyes, she waited for an opening, the Agent didn't think her a threat, she was weaponless after all, as was Sherlock, this was obviously not a well thought out plan.

Refocusing Helena took in her options, one agent aimed his handgun at her the other was starting to cuff the tall detective. She moved forward disarming the first agent having the element of surprise it took just a few quick movements, the second agent she would let Sherlock deal with.

No one noticed the two, their was too much chaos already several trucks had roared past them. The man that kidnapped John was an internationally wanted man, high profile kind of criminal, quite the bee in the Government's fat headed bonnet.

"Follow them!" an agent yelled as Sherlock and Helena darted for the treeline. "Boss wants them alive." Agent Daniels hollered over the sound of echoing gunfire he picked himself up from the road to follow the boss's younger brother.

**~0~**

John collapsed against the tree, panting he could hear trucks, the blur of tires on a road could be seen through the low hanging branches and thinner bushes.

Before he could push forward he heard his name. "John!" he exhaled it was Sherlock, his absolutely brilliantly mad flatmate, and he was looking for the Doctor. "JOHN!" he called again.

"I'm sorry sir cant let you go any further." John tensed he didn't recognize that second voice, he made out the sounds of a struggle.

Sherlock didn't care for the tight hold this agent was putting on his shoulder he'd already swung only to receive a harder hit knocking the wind out of him. He thought he heard a woman cry out in surprise.

"I'll ask you kindly to get off my flatmate, he's not that type of guy." John snapped holding Jesse's Browning to the agent attempting to cuff his flatmate.

"John!" Sherlock nearly sang out.

"Where's Abby?" Helena pushed against the burly man holding her. She was grateful to have changed into the gray pantsuit, especially when this idiot who caught hold of her around the back of her neck had swung her off her feet, Harry Watson didn't have bad taste in clothes, she'd say that much for her.

"Doctor Watson?" the agent panted.

"I said release him! Both of them." He clicked the safety to off, signaling he meant business.

"Calm down now Doctor-we are all on the same side." Agent Daniels swore under his breath, well this went from bad to worst.

"Right-get off my flatmate." John kept steady despite how everything started to blur.

"John whats wrong?" The dark haired consulting detective was standing now brushing the leaves from his coat. Something was wrong he could see it,sense it in his flatmate. Gray eyes ran over John's hands steady, nothing there, scanning John's determined face his set jaw, and finally Sherlock found it, there in his friends eyes.

"Doctor Watson you're injured." the agent pointed out, echoing only what Sherlock's mind had already discovered.

John looked at Sherlock, he limped over to his friend once reaching him Sherlock felt John's weight lean almost fully into him.

John was gripping Sherlock's dark coat, no one could see that he was whispering or took notice of his flatemate listening intently.

To onlookers it appeared as if John was hugging his flatmate and to everyone watching and now several other agents had burst through the thin foliage stumbling onto the scene, this was a great surprise. John cringed, people were definitely going to talk.

John happily took the opportunity to pass out.

"This man needs a Doctor!" Sherlock made his voice sound more afraid than he truly was. "John! Stay with me John." He looked over to Helena eyes meeting briefly and he tilted his head sharply.

Someone with a stretcher was prying Sherlock's cold hands from the unconscious Doctor, oddly the consulting detective felt himself not wishing to let go, he wondered if John truly appreciated the brilliance of such acting skills.

Really Sherlock deserved a BAFTA for his efforts, he was so good that for one maddening moment there he believed his own concern and it nearly overwhelmed him.

The consulting detective snapped himself back into sharp focus, this was tricky he needed to go left while everyone was looking right. John was giving him the perfect opportunity, and he wouldn't blow it.

Even when the stretcher was loaded swiftly into the back of the ambulance, he remained calm. Although he did feel an odd chill when those red doors closed, the finality of it made him want to pull the doors open and accompany his dear friend.

"I'll follow behind!" Sherlock growled fighting the impulse to be in the back of the small ambulance, even if he didn't need this distraction there wasn't any room for him in the small cramped space of the emergency vehicle.

He shot a dark look at agent Daniels, the one agent John had managed to get the drop on even as injured as he was, Sherlock was daring the man to stop him.

No one opposed the dark haired detective, not when he backed up onto the road causing the tires to squeal, and not when he pushed the vehicle into to a high gear to follow closely behind the speeding ambulance. No one noticed him break off from the main road, or that in the back seat of the borrowed government car was a woman dressed in a gray pantsuit, her blond hair still in a fashionable bun.

The consulting detective gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles were white, he told himself, no commanded himself to take solace in the fact that those highly trained medics were working quickly on the injured Doctor, if Sherlock had the time to spare he would be impressed by how swiftly they had an IV in John's arm before the doors of the emergency vehicle slammed. John was going to be alright. He had to be.

"Two people on foot, John said uninjured, as long as that is the same case we should be close. Put that radio setting to three, and don't say too much Mycroft's men are idiots but they most likely will be tracking all frequency's."

"I do know how this works." Helena huffed irritably; she switched the radio frequency and said "Took you long enough." She waited as the car pulled to the side of the road, holding her breath for what seemed like forever, her eyes concentrating on the road side, as if willing for the blond sniper to step out, to burst forward soundlessly as usual. With a tight grin a half smile, half annoyed and half pleased. Where was she?


	14. Sibling Interactions

**CHAPTER 14.** **Sibling Interactions**

Sherlock realized too late, that the cool night air had gone suddenly still, his thoughts were so focused on shaking the image of an unconscious John Watson, he completely missed the tell tale signs of danger.

The most basic of all, **_the quiet before the storm._**

It happened just as the Spaniard stepped cautiously out from behind the veil of trees and bushes. Helena stepped towards him expecting to see Abbs.

"Helena?" still alert, sharp eyes on Sherlock now, shoulders tense ready for attack.

"Anthony. Where the hell is Abby?"

"She twisted her ankle, I left her somewhere safe, when we got your signal. I told her I would go first."

"Her ankle? But she's she's alright?" Sherlock winced at the break in Helena's voice. He could almost sympathize; he after all would like to get back to his doctor.

"Si, si. She's a little angry, I do not know how such foul words can come from such a beautiful woman." Sherlock rolled his eyes, sentiment, this poor fool was smitten.

"Doctor Watson?" The Spaniard addressed Sherlock.

"He's going to be fine. He should be arriving at the hospital where I would like to be. So if we can wrap this up." Sherlock shoved his hands in his bellstaff's pockets irritably.

"Of course. I will just-"

And just like that the quiet night exploded with sound, first the helicopter blades cutting through the air just over head, then the agents dropping down so dramatically from thick military regulation rope. Their guns trained on the group of three, boots heavy on the gravel of the old road.

"Well done Mr. Holmes. Your brother said you would have captured the two we were looking for. Agent Daniels here will be escorting you to the hospital. Mycroft will debrief you." A tall agent in black field gear, directed pointedly. (cliché)

"Of course. He will." Sherlock growled.

"Oh, and he did say we can restrain you if necessary." Sherlock glared at the agent. Helena's eyes held Sherlock's, he could see she was clutching the radio in her white knuckled fists.

"The Car, should I just leave it then with the keys in the ignition. Someone might take it?"

"Don't worry Mr. Holmes, that isn't very likely. It's the middle of nowhere. Now come along."

Helena didn't struggle, they would ask questions, and Abby was injured and vulnerable, even the Spaniard remained cooperative.

Somewhere out in the cover of low branches and over grown shrubs a very cold, irritable Kiwi sat swearing. She held a pair of heels in one hand and the radio in her other. She waited for the distant sound of a helicopter grow fainter and fainter before daring the loathed Journey towards a parked car with the keys in the ignition. Then, she would apply for a work visa in the only way she knew how.

**_~0~_ **

"You're getting off easily. You don't just waltz into a secure government building and release a prisoner!" Mycroft hissed, tapping his umbrella firmly into the hospitals white tile.

"I was only testing the security system and seeing how the prisoner was being held illegally I didn't think you would mind so much."

"Irene Adler is wanted in three other-"

"I don't know where **_you_** get your information brother but Irene is dead."

"Oh, don't try to be clever with me. I want to know who her partner is."

"What? the great and powerful Mycroft doesn't know something?" Sherlock stated in mock surprise.

"You've met this individual haven't you?"

"Now you must really be desperate clutching at straws."

"We know Miss. Adler wasn't working alone. And her ex assistant Kate has a business in France completely legitimate. So it isn't her, now tell me brother who is it?"

"Piss off you fat-"

"Oh! Come on!" A now very conscious John Watson interrupted angrily, crossing his arms over his forehead in frustration. "Cant a guy get some sleep? Is this really the place?"

"John!" Sherlock was striding towards his friend's bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Like some Italian bastard in an expensive suit shot me in the leg."

"He might have been Spanish John."

"I could care less. I would really appreciate it if you boys refrained from arguing just yet." Mycroft missed the none verbal exchange between the two flatmates.

"Don't worry John, you are on the mend. Mycroft has men posted at the doors, Harry is on her way, and for added safety my dear brother probably bugged your hospital gown. Mycroft your face is putting John off. He's in enough pain-"

"For Christ sake, Sherlock!" John hissed, sitting up he jostled his leg causing him to swear again. "Can we just not."

"He's right. Get the hell out." Harry Watson was standing hands on her hips in the open doorway.

"Harry?" John sounded relieved.

"Out! Go deduce the love life of some weird rare dung beetle and you don't you have a war or some tarted up hussy to deal with." John held back the threatening laughter it took all his strength, both Holmes brothers were standing with twin expressions of shock and outrage. "I'll take over from here. He after all is **_my brother_**." To John's surprise both men took their leave without argument or a polite goodbye. Just a curt nod from Mycroft and an over exaggerated eye roll from Sherlock.

After they were gone Harriet who had been standing quietly at her brother's side, her sky blue eyes cloudy and pooling with tears. "I'm so sorry Johnny."

"I'm alright Harry. I was never worried that I wouldn't make it out. These things always have a way of working themselves out."

"Yeah, you do have some very interesting friends. You were always one to make friends with the strangest people. Just in this instance, the friends you made are in scary positions of power. Instead of the usual snot flickers. I say you've moved up in the world." She pushed his blond hair back over his ear.

"Harry-"

"No, John. I just-tell me it's going to be alright." John embraced her despite the pain, whispering firmly.

"It's going to be alright. You wont have to worry about any threats. Just next time could you maybe let me know what's going on? If someone's threatening you Harry-"

"What, who's this now? Look at you. I forget sometimes you aren't six." she ruffled his hair.

"And I forget sometimes how stubborn you are, you never ask for help."

"Look who's talking." John leaned back into his bed. Things _were_ going to be alright.


	15. LOADED QUESTION

**CHAPTER 15. LOADED QUESTIONS**

Mycroft sank down gratefully into his chair nearest the fire, the Diogenes club his home away from home. After the long day he deserved his scotch. Except-

"Hello, Mr. Holmes. Hope you don't mind I let myself in." Mycroft let out an exhausted sigh. "Here, I believe you deserve this." Jesse kept her browning locked on the British Governments head, and with her free hand she held out a glass of scotch. "On the rocks just like you prefer. Go on, I didn't poison it." Mycroft took the glass, his eyes cold and gray looking up the average looking woman in rather disheveled clothes, somehow he knew the pink jumper and black trousers weren't hers. They belonged to someone slightly taller. Someone in real estate. The blond met his glare. Did she know how to blink?

"And what do I owe this meeting?" Mycroft swirled the ice in his glass.

"You have something that belongs to me. Actually a couple things."

"Really whAT could that be?"

"I know your type Mycroft Holmes. You have my business partner and associate I'm willing to make a deal. I believe you have been actively seeking out my services." Mycroft should have known.

"So the Australian, odd I didn't take you for Irene's type."

"For the last bloody time I'm not Australian. Some idiot came up with that nickname and I shot him. Unfortunately not soon enough, so don't make me over compensate for it now. Furthermore I don't know an Irene. I do know a Helena, and I want her out now."

"Or what?"

"I'll shoot you Mr. Holmes, after I have my associates shoot your brother and the Captain." Mycroft placed the scotch on the small table near his chair, his gray eyes narrowing.

"Please take a seat." Jesse did just that. " I wont lie to you Abigail, I do admire your tenacity and professionalism. In fact your reputation precedes you. I understand now why you haven't accepted or considered any of my bids. "

Jesse wasn't even going to ask how he knew her name.

"Helena does the business part, she said England was bad for business. I don't ask questions I do what I'm told."

"Ah, now that's not entirely true. Could it be that you've allowed yourself to trust such a woman as Irene Adler?" He received a shrug in reply. And Mycroft felt as if he'd had this conversation once before. "I do have several contracts needing to be filled."

"I'm a military type of girl Mr. Holmes, lets get straight to business." Her accent thickened.

"Ah, the bravery of a soldier-"now Mycroft found himself wanting to laugh at the situation. The irony of it all, he knew exactly who he was dealing with, the type and he eased into the role of domineering Government official.

"I want the Spaniard, and Helena." Jesse blurted out.

"You are in no position to make-"

"If you want a deal I want the Spaniard and for Helena's name to be cleared."

"You put a very high price on your ability Abigail. I'll give you Ire-I mean Helena."

"No one calls me Abigail, Mikie. And my record speaks for itself."

"I'll give your friend Helena a clean slate but if she so much as-"

"I get it. And the Spaniard?"

"We are interrogating him presently." Mycroft leaned back in his chair crossing his long legs easily looking like the devil himself.

This caused her to stiffen. "I have a feeling you already have a job in mind. So, I say. If you want me to find that thing you lost, fine. Consider it done and the man dealt with. But not until I have my friends back. No deal if I don't have **_both_** of them."

"You soldiers and your sentiment. I never understand it. But you can have him back."

"Now! Both of them."

"Why do you want him so badly?" Mycroft couldn't understand the snipers motives.

"I could be wrong but I don't think that's any of your business." Mycroft's eye brow raised. Jesse finally growled. "Do you know how hard it is to meet a good guy in my line of work, with my insane flatmate and crazy work hours?"

Mycroft recalled why he thought the sniper was an asset, loyal, brave, honest and patient. He had been trying to recruit her for a while, and now that she was sitting in his office, he was reminded of John in some ways.

The British Government called in his PA and she left the room only to return with two of his agents looking somewhat beat up, one even limped, both men tensed seeing the blond standing near the fireplace.

Jesse noticed that Anthony had a look of confusion, he swayed dangerously from between the two agents.

"Did you drug him?" She went to give a quick once over, standing on the tips of her toes she looked into the man's glassy eyes. Mycroft frowned, the young sniper had limped and was she in socks?

"Please tell me one shoeless woman didn't jump the two of you." His men didn't reply.

"Here are the necessary papers for Helena. Like I said the contract is void if either one of the two step out of line."

"Fine fine. I get it. Where do I sign. Now where is she? And will Someone hold him for me. So I can sign?" One of Mycroft's men came over and allowed the Spaniard to lean into him, his head bobbing drunkenly.

"Alright Mycroft Holmes you have yourself an extractions expert."

"I will be calling on you very soon my dear."

"Yeah, you know how to reach me I suspect. Now if you excuse my eagerness but it's been a rather long day and I have a flatmate to collect."

"Fine." Mycroft nodded towards his PA, she returned just like before, two more of his men sporting rather bruised faces, glaring irritably at the blond who was trying to hold up the tall Spaniard.

"Abbs!" Helena couldn't help but pull out of the tight hold. "You! You're alive!" Mycroft watched as the slightly taller woman embraced the blond, still struggled to hold up the weight of the Spaniard at the same time. Her face irritable. "Excuse my flatmate Mr. Holmes, she can be a bit over dramatic."

"I can sympathize." Mycroft sighed watching her make her way out of his office.

"What happened?"

"Here, here's your papers. Irene Adler is still dead and Helena Addison is a british citizen."

"What about him, why is he here?" Helena pointed at Anthony.

Jesse only shrugged.

"Him! What-why him? No!" Helena groaned.

"I don't want to hear it."

"But we have to rethink this, where will you keep him?Is he even house broken? He'll make a mess of the place."

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"You know, combs, his favorite football or golf ball or god forbid baseball around the house, his shaving kit will clutter our bathroom."

"Helena, your make up kit clutters the bathroom."

"I need my space-besides where is he going to sleep?" Jesse shot her another mocking look. "Oh no-not under my roof young lady!"

Sherlock watched from across the street unnoticed, he couldn't imagine John ever moving a girlfriend in. Oh, god he'd shoot himself first. His mobile beeped with a text alert.

**_Do refrain from allowing would be assassins access and aid into my offices.-MH_ **

**_Oh, I made sure the gun wasn't loaded. Besides I only arranged a business meeting, you're welcome.-SH_ **

Sherlock opened his fist, palm up, a handful of bullets glistened against the moon light. He had a feeling he would be seeing the three again, but he hoped just not too soon. Maybe John needed a vacation, yes somewhere nice, relaxing. New Zealand.

**_`fin`_ **

* * *

**_A/N: thanks for all your wonderful reviews and follows!-Mary_ **


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